The Ghostly Trio
by RavenOfFrost
Summary: Before the Harvy's. Before Casper's death. In the 1920's three of the McFadden brothers died and how they became the Ghostly Trio.
1. Prologue

**No one belongs to me besides the unfamiliar.**

* * *

It was a Saturday night in 1925 when a Crossly car was driving on a rural road to home, but it was really driving, it was practically swerving as the three men, including the driver, was laughing in a drunken manner. The one in the back, a overweight man with dark hair slicked back and light-brown eyes, Greg McFadden, the middle out of the three brothers. The one in the passenger side with a funny-looking face with the same colored hair and eyes as his brother, was Samual- or Sam for short- the youngest. Then the driver with a narrow face, large nose, and black hair slicked back with violet eyes, Jack McFadden, the eldest. The three McFadden brothers were just got out of a bar and were heading home to Whipstaff, to their youngest brother's home.

"Say," Sam asked his brother beside him, drunkly, "who was that dame you were talkin' to?"

Jack chuckled at the blurry memory of the girl back at the bar. "Who?"

"What was it?" Sam began to think. "Lacy, Lucy, Stacy,"

"Sally?" Greg asked, jumping into the conversation.

"Sally?" The youngest brother shouted with confusion, taken aback as if it was a stupid question.

Jack thought about it. "Wasn't it Emily or somethin'?"

"That's it!" They both cried out, then busted up laughing how wrong they got them name.

He waved it off and slurred, "She was nothin'."

"Nothin'?" Greg cried with a smile. "She sure didn't look like it was nothin'!" He laughed.

"She was sure a looker!" Greg joined in.

The three brothers began to joke about stupid things as Jack's his drunken vision was not getting any clearer. The dark road was going windy in his eyes, then without thinking, he took a left, going off the road, and before he could react, a tree was right in front of him.

He slowly opened his eyes as found himself laying on what felt like grass as faint screaming was in his head. He thought it was a dream, but then screaming came clearer. "Sam?" He whispered so quietly, that he couldn't even hear himself.

He slowly raised his heavy head towards his right and found a crunched car in a tree. He would've tried to get up, but was too tired. It felt as if his body turned to lead. The screams of his youngest brother echoed his head as he tried to get up, wanting to save him, but he was still drunk, then past out.


	2. Chapter 1

Jack slowly opened his violet eyes and blinked. He felt numb and head was blurry as he slowly stood up, but he didn't really stand up. It was more like floating up. He looked around and his eyes grew wide in horror at the sight of the car on its side and bodies of his two brothers still inside. "Sam! Greg!" He shouted with fear then to his surprise two ghosts or spirits or whatever they were, floated out of their bodies and made their way toward him, shaking and rubbing their heads.

"Man, that stung!" Sam cried in irritation. He then stopped in his tracks as his eyes were shadowed with concern. "Whoa, Jack. Ya okay there? Ya look… Pale."

"Ya should look at yerself!" He retorted. He looked at his other brother. "You too!"

They all began to look at each other with wide eyes, then to their own dead bodies.

"Huh," Jack said as he just stared at his tall and thin, lifeless body laying on the ground on his stomach with a gash on the head. "We're dead."

His head perked up in cold realization as they all slowly turned to face each other, then shouted each other's faces. "We're dead!"

"I can't believe it!" Greg shouted with panic as he began to look at his see-through hands with wide eyes.

"We're actually dead!" Sam cried as he quickly began to glance around as if to look for something, then rammed to a tree, but went right through, so he just kept going back and forth through the tree as if to see if it was true.

"Hey!" Jack shouted at them, trying to calm them down.

They were still too freaked out.

"Hey!" He yelled, louder, making them freeze and looked at him with large eyes. "Yeah! We're dead! That means we're ghosts and ya know what that means?"

"No food?" Greg asked with worry.

The leader turned to his brother with a smirk. "I bet we can still eat and ya don't have ta worry 'bout losin' weight."

"You calling me fat?" He questioned, defensively.

Jack chuckled with a smirk. "What are ya gonna do about it, Fatso?"

Greg shrugged. "Nothin'." He never liked getting in arguments with his eldest brother because the eldest always won.

"So what are we gonna do now?" Sam asked as he slowly drifted towards them with calming eyes.

Jack looked at him. "We're ghosts. And what do ghosts do?" He looked at his two brothers, waiting for an obvious answer.

"Haunt?" Greg asked.

"And?" The eldest brother asked slowly.

"Scare people?" Sam asked with uncertainty.

"Bingo!" Jack cried, throwing his hands in the air, then swooped to his brothers and wrapped an arm around their necks with a scheming grin. "Let's go test this dead stuff out." He then bolted in the air and headed for town. "C'mon, boys! We've got scarin' to do!"

The two brothers looked at each other, shrugged, then followed.

"What about our bodies?" Sam asked in uncertainty as he caught up to the leader.

"Someone's bound ta find 'em."

"What 'bout Jacob?"

Jack never thought of that.

Jacob was the youngest of the four brothers and now he was the only one left.

The leder sighed. "I'm sure he's gonna be fine. He's got his wife and kid after all."

"Yeah, but, now they won't have any of us," Greg pointed out.

Jack abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked at him with bafflement. "Don't tell me ya feel sorry for the kid. It's not like he'll miss us anyway. I mean, what good did he do us and we did him?"

"He always annoyed me," Sam muttered as he crossed his arms, turning his eyes away.

"Ya think he wasn't to us?" The eldest asked, looking that his youngest brother with surprise. They were never fond of their nephew, but one thing was for certain, that kid was still family and they were willing to protect that kid. Mostly Jack since he was the eldest. He then shrugged it off. "Never again we'll have to deal with 'em. Now let's move!" He continued the way to town without anther word being traded.

* * *

The trio went around town and just randomly went scaring people like popping out of walls, screaming in their faces and scaring the wits out of them, sending teenagers and adults running down the dark streets with terror. The three ghosts laughed as they were in a dark alley where no one was around to see them, getting a kick out of their new hobby.

"This is too much fun!" Jack laughed, loving his afterlife.

"I never knew being dead would be so much fun!" Greg agreed with a grin.

A devious sneer grew on the leader's face as an idea came to his head. "Ya know somethin', boys? I think we should make this scarin' thing our job."

They both looked at him with wonder with curious light-brown eyes.

"I mean we should have our own name and everythin'."

"Like a trio?" Sam asked.

"Yeah! Like that!" Jack cried out with an excited smile, then wrapped his arms around his brothers' necks, still grinning. "I'm thinkin'… The Ghostly Trio."

A scheming sneer grew on each of their faces, then the Ghostly Trio took off into the night, cackling, ready for more scares.


	3. Chapter 2

Two days had past as the ghosts were wondering around town during the day, still looking for some place for them to stay, but were having no luck. No abandoned house or nothing for them to haunt, except for the streets. As they were floating down the streets, talking about what they should do, something caught Sam's -now called Stinkie- eyes as the other two didn't notice as they carried on to talk.

"Hey, fellas!" Stinkie called, making them stop as he flew to them with a newspaper in hand. "Check this out."

The leader took the newspaper and looked at the cover with the other two reading over his shoulders. "' Three McFadden brothers dead in car crash'," he read.

"We hit the front page?" Fasto, called that for obvious reasons, quietly asked in wonder.

"Look at the date," the youngest pointed out.

"Yesterday," Fatso replied softly.

"Alright, boys," Jack, now called Stretch for the way he can contort his body when scaring, ordered as he dropped the paper. "Let's head back to the manor and see what baby brother is up ta."

The two gave a curt nod of agreement as the three of them dashed in the sky and made their way to the coast. As they were flying, Stretch noticed the road that they always took to go to their brother's manor and found something shining in the sun's light. Without saying a word, he swopped down to the crash site with scraps of car still lying around and tree that looked as if nothing happened to it, as the ghost just stared at it with disbelief. This is where it all happened. If it wasn't for him-

His two ghost brothers approached his side in silence.

"Weird, ain't it?" Stinkie softly asked.

"You can say that again," Fatso muttered.

Stretch said nothing.

He was his fault that they were dead.

Not wanting to show weakness, he smirked with humor. "Don't tell me ya guys miss having breath in your lungs? We're immortal when those Fleshies have ta worry about death all the time."

The two nodded, knowing that he was right.

Stretch chuckled as he began to turn away. "Now, let's go." He loved being dead so far, but he only hoped that the guilt would pass over time, but right now, there was no way he was going to show his brother's that it was paining him after he saw that crash. He had to go the site.

* * *

When they arrived at the manor, Stretch wanted to yell that he was home to his brother like he normally did, but knew that he couldn't, so the ghosts just past through the walls and stayed invisible. When they first found out that they could go invisible, Stretch and Fatso were almost worried that their brother had crossed over or something, but it only turned out to that Stinkie just wanted to see if he could surprise-scare his two older brothers.

He just got a instant reflex of getting slugged in the face from the eldest brother.

The trio were just floating in the high ceiling, secretly watching their youngest brother sit in the living room with his beloved wife comforting him.

"I can't believe that they're gone," his voice echoed through the grand halls of Whipstaff. He then stood up and took a couple of paces away with anger. "I thought Jack knew better than that," he hissed. "He got him and others killed."

Stretch flinched out those words. Did he have to put it like that?

"Two days they've been dead and I still can't believe it."

"Jacob," his wife soothed as she stood up and approached him. "They were your brothers. Of course you can't believe it."

He smirked sadly. "The four McFadden brothers. Three are now dead. The wild ones hardly ever make it out alive."

"Dad?"

Fasto rolled his eyes as they turned to back to their normal state. "Brat in coming."

"I forgot about the kid," Stretch muttered dryly as the young child enter the room.

Young blonde boy walked down the staircase to meet his parents and sure enough, the child had a look of heartache.

"Can I scare 'im?" Fasto suddenly asked.

Stretch sighed. "No."

"It'll be so worth it," Stinkie joined in with a hopeful smile.

"No."

"Pretty, pretty please?" The two begged with large eyes as holding their hands like children begging for a toy.

"No!" He answered, a little too loudly, causing the Fleshies heads to perk.

The three ghosts quickly turned invisible and froze.

When the family returned to their conversation, the ghosts took a small sigh of relief, changing back.

Stretch growled lowly in annoyance as he narrowed his violet eyes at his brothers. "Ya idiots. Do ya want to be seen? And no, ya cannot scare Casper. Not at a time like this."

They hung their heads in disappointment.

"Out of the four brothers, I get stunk with both of ya," he hissed, crossing his arms. He then began to head to the nearest wall out of there. "Now let's get outta here."

"Are we gonna see 'em again?" Fatso asked.

"Maybe someday," Stretch answered, then the trio disappeared through a wall. He couldn't help think that it really was his fault that he got them all killed. He was the eldest! It was his job to protect his siblings and what does he do? Gets them all killed in a drunken car accident. Some eldest brother he was. Hell, he even protected his nephew at times.

"So where to now?" Stinkie sadly asked, obviously not wanting to go back to town.

Stretch thought about it, stopped, turned, and looked up at the top of the manor. "We could hide in the attic."

"For how long?" Fasto asked as they all turned their heads up towards the top of the manor.

"Till we want to show ourselves."

"So we just hide in there will we get bored?" Stinkie asked.

"Yep."

"Sounds good," the large ghost replied.

The leader then flew up to the top of the manor with the others following and went though the attic walls during the day and at night they would go scaring. At least they could say they haunt and attic...


	4. Chapter 3

Days and nights past as the trio were still hiding away in the attic during the day and every time they heard steps coming their way, they fell silent, not wanting to be discovered. Of course they would go out in the manor, but they had to be invisible and fight the temptation of scaring their living family. The trio were just sitting in the attic, being bored out of their dead minds as Stretch was just looking out the window, lost in thought as Fatso was just drifting around as Stinkie was just rummaging through random boxes.

"This sinks," Fatso muttered.

Stinkie raised head from a box with an uncertain smile, thinking that his brother was referring to his breath. "Sorry."

"Not you! Being just stuck in this attic for who knows how long." He then grumbled in annoyance, "I'm getting hungry and I can't bring food through walls." He then turned to Stretch. "Got any ideas?"

Stretch didn't hear him.

"Jack!"

The ghost raised his head at the sound of his real name. "Hm?"

"You okay?" Fatso asked with concern in his voice.

"Yeah," Stinkie softly added as the two ghosts approached their brother. "Ya seem down."

Stretch didn't look at them. He couldn't look at them. "I'm sorry, boys," he forced himself to say.

"Sorry for what?" The youngest brother asked, confused.

"For gettin' us killed. It's my fault." He just looked blankly out the window. How was he supposed to carry on his afterlife with something like that hanging over his head? For the rest of eternity? It was not an easy thing to bare. Especially when the other two ghosts are by your side.

Fatso the gave a low chuckle as he wrapped an arm around his brother's thin shoulders with a smile. "Are ya kiddin'? Of course we're dead and it's only been five days, things are going to get better."

"Yea," Stinkie agreed with a smile. "We don't blame ya for the crash or anythin'. Besides, we had a helluva night!" He chuckled with a knowing smile.

"And boy," the middle brother added with laugh, "were we _hammered_!"

"I think I kissed a girl," Stinkie stated as if trying to remember.

Stretch smiled at his youngest brother as a small memory of the sort entered his head. "I kinda remember that." He then looked at both of his brothers, still smiling. "And ya two morons were busy talkin' about me and that gal Lacy."

"Emily," Stinkie corrected.

He narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Whateva." He didn't even remember what the girl looked like.

"See?" Fatso laughed, looking at him with upbeat light-brown eyes. "Do ya really think we're blaming you for that crash? None of us were thinking right!"

"Besides," Stinkie began in a sly way, putting an arm around his eldest brother, "we're dead now. Which means we can't do anythin' about it. The afterlife is waaay better than life itself. Don't ya think?"

Stretch thought about it as smirk grew across his face and violet eyes glinted. "Damn right. Boys? I say we head out and have a party like we were about ta die again."

They all began to have devious grins across their faces, for tonight was going to be drinks and scares.

* * *

Things were going grand for the three ghosts as the leader was no longer worried about the crash and still had his brothers by his side. But a week later, winter came, covering the ground with thick snow. The Ghostly Trio still went out at night to scare during the winter, but there wasn't as much people out. Especially at night, which was a real bore, so they got in much scares as they could. Until one afternoon, they were looking down from the attic window, watching their youngest brother carry, what looked like a sled, inside the house, making them shrug if off.

"Probably for Casper," Stretch who was sitting in the middle of the window, announced, bored.

"At least that kid can do something," Fatso grumbled on his left.

"Why can't we scare during the day?" Stinkie whined as he began to back off on the right.

"Because it's not a scary," the middle brother answered.

"Okay, Stretch," the youngest said in a unamused manner as he sat down on the floor, "now I hate ya for killin' me. I'm bored and ya suck at drivin' drunk."

* * *

The next morning, the Ghostly Trio watched their nephew playing outside on the his new sled, going down snowy hills repeatedly.

"Doesn't that kid get tired of it?" Stinkie asked in wonder over the leader's shoulder.

"He's a kid," Stretch told him, pointing out the obvious. "His brain is the size of a marble."

"That figures," Fatso stated, accepting the answer.

There was a pause as they continued to watch their nephew out of pure boredom.

"Does anyone else realize that we've been watching him for that past two minutes?" Fatso flatly asked,.

"Wow," Stretch began, without taking his eyes off the kid going down the same hill for the hundredth time. "We are incredibly bored." He lightly smacked his head on the window. "I hate the snow! No one hardly to scare!" They were now starting to get cabin or more like scare-fever. If neither of them was not going to get a good scare soon, their nephew was going to get a helluva one.

"Ya think we enjoy this?" Fatso cried with disbelief. "I've been dreaming of food for the past three days!"

"Ya always dream of food!" Stretch retorted.

"Can we please scare the brat now?" Stinkie asked idly bored.

"Don't tempt me," the eldest muttered. "I've dreaming of a good scare since the damned snow appeared." He turned around and slunk to the floor. "I really hate this." He was starting to get annoyed and frustrated, but didn't want to yell or shout about it, afraid of getting discovered. He swore, if he was going to have to bottle this up for the next two days or so, the whole manor will hear it.


	5. Chapter 4

The next morning, the ghostly trio were expecting to find their nephew to be out in the snow again, but instead, he wasn't and they haven't seen him outside all day. Getting concerned, the three ghosts headed out of the attic and heard talking as they neared the child's room as the father was carrying a bottle of what looked like medicine just as the mother walked out of the room.

"I have the medicine," he said, handing her the small bottle.

"This should do," she muttered with concern. "He's fever is rising."

The parents walked in the room and the ghosts looked at each other with concern, but they knew that the kid was going to get better. They always do.

* * *

A couple of days past and there was no sign of improvement on the ill child and now the uncles couldn't help, but be concerned. The parents called the doctor who told them that the child had pneumonia and the mother began to worry as the father was trying to comfort her as they were standing outside Casper's room.

The three ghosts, who were invisible, eyes nearly popped out of their heads at the doctor's diagnosis.

"I'm sorry," the older man proceeded to tell the parents. "The only thing we can do now is wait and hope."

"T-thank you, Doctor," Jacob said, trying to be brave as he began to walk the doctor to the staircase, leaving the mother to go back to her ill boy's side.

"Gee, this is bad," Fatso said quietly as they returned to their normal state.

"Poor Casper," Stinkie whimpered.

Stretch lightly waved it off. "I'm sure the kid will be fine." Then he added quietly with concern, "I hope." Casper was only twelve. He had to get better, right? He had his whole life ahead of him.

When the mother walked out of the room, she had plain worry in her face and looked tired as she headed for the stairs as if the energy was sucked out of her. Stretch led the others to the child's room as they turned in invisible as they went through the walls and sure enough, there was Casper, sleeping heavily as sickness was in the air. "

This is not good," Stretch whispered to his brothers, not taking his eyes of his sleeping nephew.

"His he gonna be alright?" Stinkie whispered with concern.

"Listen," the leader began as he faced his brothers, guessing where their eyes were. "Casper is gonna get better. It's just the worst of it."

"For six days?" Fatso questioned as if skeptical of his older brother's words.

"It's pneumonia. It's a weird thing." Stretch knew that he sounded confident, but in the inside, he was a worried uncle. He then headed for the door. "C'mon. Let's get outta here before we wake the kid."

They floated out of the room and back to the attic.

Instead of being bored, they were now the three worried ghosts. They didn't even want to leave the manor for scaring at night, fearful that something may happen to Casper while they were away. The funny thing is, they hardly paid attention to the kid and now, they were dead and their nephew was ill. Very ill. Stretch tried to think of some witty remark to say to lighten up their mood, but nothing came to his mind. The only thing that came to his mind were what-ifs and what might happen to Casper. He didn't even think that Casper was going to die because that was not even an option. That kid was going to pull through and that was a promise. Hell, he would even bet his life on it!

"Stretch," Stinkie's voice broke his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"What if Casper doesn't make it?"

He turned to his brother, who was sitting on the floor, with narrowed eyes. "That kid _will _make it."

"But if-"

He gave him a death glare.

Stinkie closed his mouth and slowly looked down at the floor boards.

"What would've happened if we were alive?" Fatso suddenly asked as he floating towards them.

The eldest brother turned to him on his right. "We would be by Jacob's and Maria's side. Including Casper's." He then lightly shook his head as he turned away. "But it wouldn't change the fact that Casper's sick."

They all took a heavy breath at the same time.

Stretch shook his head as he began to float away from the window, trying to get his mind in a positive state. He faced his brothers as he said, "Listen, Casper will make it. That kid is our nephew and look at us!"

"We're dead," Fatso straightforwardly replied.

"I meant look at the life we lived," he loudly added, knowing that the afterlife was not a good example. He turned to Stinkie wit hard eyes. "Remember when ya were a kid and ya came down really sick?"

"Ya mean the time when ya kept askin' Ma if I was gonna die?" He asked with blinking eyes.

"That's it!" Stretch cried with a grin as memories of him and Fatso kept asking their mother if they were going to have funeral for their brother if he didn't make it.

"I remember that," Fatso chuckled at the memory with a humorous smile. "Everyday we kept checking you and poking you to see if you were breathing when we were asleep."

The youngest brother narrowed his light-brown eyes, unamused. "Thanks for takin' care of me, fellas. Yea. Glad to have ya by my side."

"Well ya pulled through, didn't ya?" Stretch cried out, wanting to get to his point.

"No thanks to you, big brother!"

Stretch smiled proudly at that. "Yer welcome." He then took a deep breath. "What I'm tryin' to say is that this might be the same with Casper."

The two other brothers looked at each other, thinking that he did have a point.

Stretch chuckled with pride, knowing that he was right. "Told ya. Soon, that kid will be back on his feet in no time."

The others just nodded, accepting his words and hoping that they were right.


	6. Chapter 5

Two days had past after the doctor's diagnosis on Casper and a scream had echoed through the manor early in the morning, startling the three ghosts who quickly jumped up with eyes larger than moons, glancing around for a fire, then slowly relaxed when they smelt nothing. Knowing that something was wrong, Stretch called out to the others, and hurried out the attic with his brothers following to find out the reason for the scream. When they got neared to the bottom floors, they heard crying and screaming echoing through the halls of their brother's wife. When they neared the source of the screaming, they found the couple standing outside of Casper's room.

"He's dead!" The mother screamed with tear-streaked her face as her husband held her tight. "He's dead!" She sobbed and buried her face in his chest, crying untrollibly.

"No," the leader ghost whispered, then headed for the child's room with the two ghosts following with dread.

When they entered the room, they froze in horror at the sight of the young boy's body laying in bed. face was pale and all relief was gone as if he was never sick.

Stinkie looked away as Fatso was trying avoid the body with his eyes.

Stretch just stared in horror and disbelief.

His nephew, twelve-year-old Casper, was dead. He was actually dead.

He and the other two were never fond of the kid, but he never, ever wanted to lose his young nephew. Not when the child had his whole life ahead of him. At least they were there when it happened. Not physically, of course.

The trio slowly bowed their heads in silence for their young nephew.

"Uncle Jack, Sam, Greg?" A familiar voice suddenly asked, catching their attention. "What are you guys doing here?"

The Ghostly Trio raised their heads and jumped back with large eyes, finding their see-through nephew floating beside the bed.

"Casper!" Stinkie cried. "Yer a ghost!"

"So are you!" He replied with wide blue eyes.

"Yea," Stretch began as he crossed his arms, quickly pushing the shock away as he became his old self. "We were ever since the crash." He then looked at him with concern. "Ya okay, kid?"

"Yeah," the child answered slowly. He then then looked at his body and heartache came over him. "I am dead, aren't I?"

"Yeah," they answered sadly, not knowing what to say.

The boy looked at them. "And my dad?"

"He's with yer mom right now," Fatso answered.

Casper slowly nodded as the trio floated out of the room with the child following, to the main living room to watch the father comfort his distressed wife in a chair. "I didn't want to leave him," the child whispered as tears came to his blue eyes.

The other ghosts were surprised that a ghost could shed tears, but that was not the issue right now.

Stretch slowly approached the child and placed a hand on the child's shoulder, who looked up at with heartbreaking eyes.

"We ain't gonna leave 'im," he told his nephew, looking him in the eyes. "And we ain't gonna leave you." He gave him a small reassuring smirk. Since their child nephew was now a ghost, he knew that he had to take care of his three younger brothers and now his nephew.

The young ghost smirked thinly. "I actually kind of missed you guys."

The three ghosts chuckled softly at that, knowing that they weren't really there for the kid, but now they were going to be stuck with each other for the rest of eternity. Now that was a long time.

Stretch look down at his nephew with his eyes. "Why didn't ya crossover?"

The child shrugged. "I wasn't ready to leave my dad alone. Something told that…" His eyes began to darken as they slowly looked away. "Something will happen to mom and he'll be alone." He looked up at his tall uncle. "Why didn't you guys crossover?"

Neither of them never thought about that, but a quick answer came to the leader's head as he crossed his arms with a sly smirk. "Cuz we don't go down that easily. Besides! The afterlife is waaay better than the living." He gave a smooth chuckle.

"Yea!" Stinkie added, floating beside his eldest brother. "Those Fleshies are overrated. You'll see."

Casper gave small chuckle. "You guys haven't changed a bit, have you?"

The trio looked at each other, then looked at him and shacked their heads. "Naw."

Casper chuckled. "Should've guessed."

They returned to watching the parents continue to mourn.

"So it's just us, huh?" Casper asked in a sad way, missing his parents already.

"It's just us," Stretch softly answered, not taking his eyes of his brother and sister-in-law. He knew that it wasn't only his three brothers, but know he had to think about Casper's safety. He remembered promising the boy's father that he'll take in the boy if anything happens to him and his wife. He never had thought that he was going to have to take in the child in the afterlife. It was the same thing, but only backwards.

* * *

**I want to thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this little story. Nothing great, I know.**


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